


The Cockerel and the Mother Hen

by elementalmystique



Series: Graceland [1]
Category: Graceland (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Graceland pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-03
Updated: 2013-07-03
Packaged: 2017-12-17 14:30:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/868634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elementalmystique/pseuds/elementalmystique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlie and Briggs talk about Mike and there are subtle references to Charlie/Briggs... until the end when it gets more than just subtle. Heh heh. Graceland Pilot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cockerel and the Mother Hen

**Author's Note:**

> I ship Charlie/Briggs, but you can totally tell that there's something between Mike and Charlie as well as Mike and Paige. So yeah.

Charlie pauses in the doorway to Mike’s room. She is unsure whether she wants to interrupt or bother him, because she knows that his first day has been a toughie, but she just wants to check on him and see if he’s okay. 

He’s been quite the trooper. Having a territorial DJ get in his face over orange juice has taken him aback, according to Johnny, and having Charlie’s gun leveled in his face clearly hasn’t helped either. Of course, Lauren is about as welcoming as an angry porcupine for Donnie’s sake. Judging from how straight-laced Mikey is, meeting Mr. Laid-Back Paul Briggs must have been a shocker as well. Johnny alone has been the one ray of sunshine with his joking manner, and Paige is MIA for now due to the DEA case she is currently assigned to. 

Charlie remembers walking into Mike’s room and seeing the kid’s lone suitcase and backpack, still full, propped up on the bed, while he hasn’t touched anything else of Donnie’s. He has taken Lauren’s words to heart, which is a pretty considerate thing to do under the circumstances of his relatively unfriendly and unexpected welcome to Graceland. 

His success at the bust with Frankie has been overshadowed by the threat of the Russian mafia. Charlie remembers seeing him stutter as he tries to assimilate the truckload of information for his hastily assembled cover story. She smiles at the memory of his determination when he decides to go take the Russians head-on to save a woman and a pair of kids. Going up against the Family takes stones, especially on his first day. Nearly getting shot by Donnie and the Russians should have made him crap his pants, but the kid has just rolled with everything tossed at him like a pro. 

The door is half open, and Charlie feels a twinge of guilt at her intrusion before she peeks her head in, just to see if the kid is okay and partially unsure if she’s going to get a gun jabbed in her face. Instead she sees Mike in his underwear sprawled facedown on his bed, fast asleep. The covers have been tossed back over the footboard as if he has been preparing for bed, but clearly hasn’t quite made it there. The bedside lamp is still lit, illuminating the chiseled planes of his face. 

For a second or two — or ten — she stops in the doorway, staring at him. The relaxed posture of his body belies the sculpted muscles of his back, and his expression reminds her of a little boy. In slumber, he looks even younger than he does — which would obviously not endear him to Lauren or Briggs or the others who look down on his inexperience. He hugs his pillow with his arms, and briefly Charlie wonders what it would be like to be wrapped in that embrace. She looks away as a lock of his brown hair slips from its mussed top and curls just so over his forehead, right where his eyes are. 

No way. Not ever. This is Graceland, where things are tightly fitted and there is no room for romance. Look at Lauren and Donnie — you get in too close to each other romantically like that, and right now she can’t focus on her job; she can’t welcome Mike to the house when it isn’t even his fault he got assigned here; and she can’t do anything but concentrate on revenge and on bringing Donnie back. 

Besides, it’s not like Charlie isn’t already breaking a few rules of her own. 

“Breaking and entering is a federal offense.” 

She already knows he is there, but the way he has the drop on her — on anybody, whether inside or outside this house — still gives her a secret thrill, even after all the time they have known each other. “It’s no sin to be passing by.” 

“Checking in on the newborn, I see.” He comes up behind her, pressing close enough that she can feel his breath on her neck and sense the warmth of his body. 

“He’s had a rough first day. It wouldn’t kill you to admit it, you know.” 

“If he couldn’t handle it, he wouldn’t have been assigned here.” 

“He can’t do anything against the big cheeses in D.C., Paul.” 

“I’ll give you that, Charlie, but I think things just got stirred up in a very interesting way here at Graceland with the arrival of Boy-Scout, by-the-book, stick-up-his-ass, baby Levi there.” 

“The only stick up his ass is how you guys have been treating him. And what do you mean by that?” 

Briggs’ voice holds a sensual challenge when he drawls into her ear. “You’ll just have to see, Charlie, but speaking of Levi, you’re really quick to rise to his defense. Excited by the prospect of another kid to mother?” 

Charlie chuckles softly. She doesn’t want to wake Mike. “Of course. And it doesn’t hurt to have a face and baby blues like that, either.” 

“And here I thought your preferences ran to tall, dark, and handsome.” He moves in so close, and she turns to face him. His eyes are like glittering onyx, and when she inhales, she can smell the unique combination of his cologne and his own primal male scent. 

“Careful there. The baby is sleeping.” 

Briggs’ quiet laugh makes his throat vibrate, brushing her shoulder. “That’s what you’re here for.” 

Charlie grins. “Damn straight.” Casually she brushes at the rounded collar of his T-shirt, feeling his muscles beneath her fingers and the heat of his chest. “Look, Paulie, I know you’re feeling a little perturbed at the new kid. Trust me, he knows — we all do — that you’re the alpha male in this house. He’s only too willing to obey and to please. You just have to let him. Don’t let that clever, suspicious mind of yours cloud things and muck up his chance to make good.” 

“It’s kept me alive so far, Charlie. I intend on staying that way.” 

Charlie reaches up and strokes her fingertips across his face. “He’s just left the Quantico womb of security, Paul. He just wants to take his first steps and soar. Give him a chance.” 

Briggs smirks at her, but Charlie knows he’s taking her words, examining them, and if they hold truth, he will eventually take them to heart. “He has made a good impression thus far. I didn’t think he would make it through the night with those Russians and with Donnie. Or that he would be such a Boy Scout with the kitchen.” 

“You and your hazing.” Charlie shakes her head. “If I’d been there, I’d have made you do your own color on the chore wheel, you slacker.” 

Briggs raises an eyebrow. “You’re surprised I did it without you present, then?” 

He laughs and ducks when she swipes playfully at him. 

“I’m headed to bed, and you really should, too.” 

There is a hint of a question mingled with a challenge in his words, and Charlie considers it, turning it over in her head. DJ and Johnny and Lauren have already retired for the night, and Mikey is down for the count as well. 

“Give me a minute, okay? The mother hen wants to cluck for a moment.” 

She pads silently into Mikey’s room, glad for the floor that doesn’t creak, and grabs the comforter, lifting it enough to slip it over the kid’s torso. He doesn’t react; merely nuzzles his pillow a little more and snuggles beneath the drape of the quilt. Charlie feathers her hand over his hair before she switches the night table lamp off and retreats to Briggs’ side. Briggs closes the door before he turns to face Charlie. 

“If he were a better agent, he’d wake up when you did that.” 

Charlie rolls her eyes. More posturing. Great. She can tell by the wicked grin on Briggs’ face that he’s mostly kidding, though. 

“If you’re going to keep dick-measuring, you can stay here and do it with the door. I’m going to bed.” 

She sneers in his face and walks off, but she hasn’t taken two steps before he’s in front of her, halting her progress as he looks down into her eyes. Despite herself, she feels a smile curve up the corners of her lips. 

“I think I’m less interested in the door and more interested in you at this point. The cock-erel is ready for some mother hen time.” 

“That’s gross.” 

“Admit it, you love me.” 

“Oh, shut up.” 

The bantering goes on even when his door shuts — and then it stops, because they have discovered better things to do with their hands and their mouths. 

No problem. It will continue in the morning. Just like everything else.


End file.
